


Out of Uniform

by FightingForms



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Conflicting Loyalties, M/M, Mentor/Protégé, Spies & Secret Agents, brief Washington mention, past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 11:58:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3895489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FightingForms/pseuds/FightingForms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andre catches Ben behind the British lines. The question of what to do with him would have been relatively simple, had they not been together before the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Uniform

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place before 2x05 and is slightly AU in that it has Andre and Ben having known one another in New Haven. Also used the age difference between the actors rather than the characters. The actors have about ten years between them, but Andre was really only four years older than Tallmadge.

Ben almost didn’t recognize himself out of uniform. Looking down at his legs and finding dark slacks rather than cream breeches was a bit of a shock, and a mostly welcome one. Dressed like this, he did not look like he should be following or giving orders, and civilians did not look at him and see The War and all it had done to their crops or their families or their sense of who they were. 

No, dressed like this he was a clerk, a teacher, a farmer. And to anyone who knew who he actually was, a spy behind enemy lines. Whether they saw a Tallmadge behind enemy lines as a good thing or a bad thing depended on the person. Abe and Anna would be thrilled. Judge Woodhull less so. And Robert Rogers would be overjoyed for the entirely wrong reasons.

Of course, after having run through a list of reactions he could expect were any number of people to see him, he was spotted on the outskirts of York City by the one person whose reaction he had not thought to predict.

Not that there ever really could be any predicting what Major Andre would do. Once—maybe. Ben fancied that he had at one point been able to read Andre some of the time, to slip behind the man’s façade of detached amusement when they had been together in New Haven. Now—

Well, now there was still no telling. Andre was looking at him like he didn’t recognize him, which was a good sign. It didn’t mean that he wouldn’t be dangling from a noose in a few days, but at least Andre and his men weren’t going to erect a makeshift gallows in the woods. 

“Tell me, sir, have you lost your mount?” Andre asked, eyes daring Ben not to follow his lead.

Ben wasn’t sure that he could trust Andre now, but could not see a trap in the question.

“Yes, Captain? Major? I apologize, I am not familiar with how to determine rank.”

Ben heard a muttered “civilian” behind him, and, despite the tension, stifled a grin. Because he knew how to look for the signs, he knew Andre was stifling one, too. 

Andre dismounted and held out a hand. “Major John Andre. It is my pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Mr.?”

Luckily, Ben had a false name prepared. “Mr. Samuel Scott, Major. The pleasure is all mine.”

“Pardon me for asking, sir, only I pride myself on being correct about these matters. You have the look of a schoolteacher desperately seeking new employ in the city. Pray tell me whether my surmise is accurate, and I hope you have not taken offense at my asking.”

Ben laughed genuinely, if a tad too gratefully. Andre had, after all, helped him prepare for his interview as a schoolteacher. “Indeed, Major, I could not in good conscience continue to work in Connecticut, my sympathies being what they are. Hearing that the British had taken the city, I came to practice my calling in a less objectionable locale. I regret only that my horse has absconded with all of my materials, including several copies of Cheever’s Accidence.”

“I am afraid I cannot regret the loss of that text, my own memories of it being none too fond. I can, however, convey you to York City. I trust that you will not object to answering some questions once we arrive?”

Andre’s question roused no suspicion in his men. As far as they knew, either the Major suspected something about this man wandering close to their lines or wanted to use him as a source. Or even as a tutor. Either way, he was being investigated. 

Ben, on the other hand, felt a little more trepidation, but revealed none of it when he answered: “I look forward to the opportunity to hold further discourse with you, Major.”

“Then let us begin now. Please, sir, share my mount.”

Clearly Ben wasn’t going to be let out of Andre’s grasp. 

Ben mounted, nestling back against Andre with a sense of familiarity he knew he should not conjure. He could not rely on Andre’s past affection for him to save him. The hours Andre had spent tutoring the twenty-year old Ben in French and diplomacy, and even the ways of love, were no guarantee for his life when Andre risked a charge of treason if he let Ben go. 

Ben hoped he remembered enough of Andre’s early lessons in diplomacy and evasion well enough to survive, though his unorthodox reasoning in that field had led even the unflappable Andre to express frustration. They had spent a much more pleasurable time with French. Indeed, after they had become lovers, Andre had very much enjoyed spelling out rude French words with a non-inked quill on Ben’s bare back and then making Ben figure out what he was going to do to him.

But that was when the United States had been another country, and Ben a lovesick boy. Still, the sense of familiarity was only heightened when Andre brushed Ben’s hair to the side. It had always been in the way when they’d lain together in New Haven. Andre had taken to braiding it for Ben before spooning up against him at night so that it did not tickle his nose. 

Andre waited until his men had ridden ahead to lean forward and whisper “Little boy, why are you not in blue?” into Ben’s ear.

Ben shivered, and Andre rubbed his shoulder automatically, just as he had done on chilly nights in New Haven.

“You know why in general, John, and you also know that I’ll never tell you the specifics behind why I’m here now.” Townsend would remain safe, even if it cost Ben his life.

“What was that, Major Tallmadge? You have had a change of heart and wish to use your position as head of intelligence to make the false reports we’ll give you?”

“John. I won’t turn.”

Andre laughed bitterly. “I know. I know that because I know you. You stubborn, foolish, boy.” 

Ben was happy that their position did not allow them to be face-to-face when he asked “What will you do with me, then?” He did not want to see his death written on Andre’s face.

Andre sighed against the back of Ben’s neck. “That I do not know. Why did you have to be out here, Ben?”

It was Ben’s turn to chuckle bitterly. “You’d think you weren’t happy to see me.”

Andre did not respond except to wrap his arms more tightly around Ben, a gesture Ben could not interpret. Was Andre restraining him? Holding Ben’s living, breathing body while he could before sending him to the gallows? Making up for lost time? Or was it all three?

They traveled the rest of the way in silence, each wrapped in memories of the past and working out possible futures. 

Andre dismissed his men when they arrived at his lodgings, and was surprised to find that Ben wanted to linger outside. 

“A possibility I have not seriously considered is keeping you prisoner in my home, Benjamin. You have my word that you will see the outdoors again once you cross my threshold.”

Ben pointed to a line of soldiers performing drills. “No…it’s just that the city looks so different now, but I remember our men drilling at that spot, too.”

“You were here when we took the city?” Andre asked, alarmed.

“No. I was—damn it, never mind where I was. Why does it matter, anyway? We aren’t old friends chatting about the good old days of our war experiences.”

“I was under the impression that that was exactly what we were.”

“You know what I mean. I can’t talk like this with you, not when this is where Nathan—“

Andre went white and herded Ben inside and into his chambers. “Christ, Ben, no,” he said, drawing Ben into his arms. “No,” he said again, when he noticed Ben was still holding himself stiffly against him. “Never that. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.”

“Then what?” Ben asked.

“Do you have any suggestions? I must have taught you something while you were at Yale.”

Ben finally relaxed, huffing a laugh. “You certainly did. You know, you would look excellent in blue yourself.”

“Mmmm…I do not believe that General Washington would welcome me with open arms, even were I willing to go.”

Ben grinned against Andre’s chest. “No comment.”

“I have taught you something, then,” Andre said softly, before letting Ben go. “My real question is: would he trade you for a man of ours?”

Ben’s face shuttered. “I don’t know.”

Andre gave him a skeptical look. “You don’t know whether he would make the exchange, or you are too embarrassed to let him know what happened?”

“I mean that I don’t know, but what I do know is that he will wonder why you are willing to make an exchange rather than simply hanging me.”

“That’s simple. I’ll tell him you’re still a boy who can’t do much damage, and if throwing you back means that I can get a bigger fish of ours in exchange, well…”

“Do you really feel that way?” Ben asked, angry with himself for having to know even before the words left his mouth.

“I wish I did. It would certainly make me feel less treasonous,” Andre replied, turning away and settling at his desk to write a letter to Washington.

“But if you get a higher ranking officer back, surely General Howe will commend you, especially if your superiors don’t know who I am.”

“Indeed. But if you succeed later, I will have the blood of countless men on my hands. And I must do this without prior approval in case they do try to take you and hang you.”

Ben bit his lip. There was nothing he could say, other than, “I’m sorry. And thank you.”

Andre nodded, but did not turn around until he had finished the letter. “Would you like to add a post-script?”

Ben scanned the letter, but the only safe thing to do would be to sign his name. Andre was—and he still couldn’t quite believe it—letting him go, but he knew Andre wouldn’t hesitate to investigate were he to write anything in code.

Andre dispatched a messenger and ordered them food while they waited for word from Washington. He had even remembered how Ben preferred his meat cooked.

Ben was amazed at how comfortable the supper felt, considering their unspoken agreement not to discuss Ben’s brother or Andre’s somewhat treasonous actions. Being with Andre again reminded Ben of the pure fun he had had in New Haven, drinking, debating in clubs and taverns, and exploring with Andre between the sheets. For a man who often kept the world at a distance via his wit, Andre had always been awfully tactile, wrapping an arm around Ben while he worked, or brushing a hand against the small of Ben’s back when he walked by. 

Something in Ben’s eyes must have revealed the direction his thoughts had taken, because Andre suddenly set down his wine glass and held his hand out to Ben across the table. His “Shall we?” was all it took for the two of them to renew their acquaintance. 

Andre was more possessive than he ever had been before, gripping Ben so hard he was sure to leave bruises, and Ben explored Andre more thoroughly than he had even during his first time, seeking to know whether the war had had any physical effects at the same time as he memorized his body, uncertain of whether he would ever see it again. Aside from those differences, it was as though they had never been apart, and they gave one another pleasure until the candles burned low. 

“I did teach you well,” Andre murmured, lazily running a hand up and down Ben’s bare shoulder.

Ben was not too tired to smack him with a pillow.

The next morning brought two messages from Washington, one for Ben and one for Andre. 

“Well,” Andre said with a tight smile after reading his. “It’s done. Though I dare say he won’t assign you on any missions near the city after this.”

Ben, who had gone slightly pale after reading his message, shook his head. “He didn’t exactly assign me on this one.”

Andre couldn’t help but laugh and wag a finger at him. “Then he won’t let you out of his sight for some time.”

Ben waved his letter, defeated. “So I gather. There isn’t any chance I could stay here?” 

Andre smiled softly. “Go. And don’t let me see you until after the war.”

“Thank you. You too.”


End file.
